


The Clock Within the Frame

by kaapa



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: (But not really so dont worry), Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Arithmophobia, Clay | Dream Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Clocks, Fear of numbers, Flashbacks, Guilt, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Not Beta Read, Not graphic self harm btw just hair plucking out of arm, Suicidal Thoughts, yes i like to see my favourite characters suffer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:35:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29299752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaapa/pseuds/kaapa
Summary: That constant ticking was starting to get to Dreams Head.tl;dr- Dream goes half-insane and throws his clock into lava. angsty, not many words but i tried.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 123





	The Clock Within the Frame

The insistent clicking of the clock radiated throughout his cell even as he tried to sleep. it infested his dreams like a virus and often he awoke from nightmares and terrors to nothing but that chime of the round object.

But it wasn't all that bad.

  
The clock thankfully at least told him how many days had gone by and what time it was. At least his sleep schedule was in order. 

  
**Sam came in 2001 _tiks_ after the clock's half turned to day. He left 20 _toks_ afterwards.**

  
**He went to sleep 1496 _toks_ after the clock's half turned to night. He didn't actually rest until 2000 _tiks_ later. But at that point Sam had come in so there was no use for rest.**

  
**He wrote in his books 790 _toks_ after the clock turned midday. 290 _tiks_ later he would then get lunch.**

  
**Numbers and calculations ran through his head as if they were a mantra of spells he was supposed to memorise.**

**Constantly counting, constantly checking if he was right.**

**_Exact planning and seeing how far he could get before dying._ **

**Constantly planning, Constantly testing his limits.**

**_Completely throwing away his life just to see an ounce of light._ **

  
**The cell didn't have windows after all.**

If he wasn't thinking about numbers, he would be fearing them. 

Counting had become a problem for him and he only noticed when Sam came to give him food and gave him a _choice_ to choose how many potatoes he wanted. **Unplanned. Unnatural. It wasn't accounted for. What does he do? There isn't a chime for this. Tik Tok Tik? Tok Tok Tik? Tik Tik Tok?**

He didn't get to choose before Sam just put down one in his hands and left the man alone once more. 

**Everything has gotta change now. A nuisance. Why couldn't he just choose? A new rythm. Exciting! New! Colourful! Or is it just fear?**

He tried counting the hair on his arms once. Staring absentmindedly at each strand. It was hard to see. The only light he got from the room was the lava and he couldn't get to close without counting the droplets of lava or how many _tiks_ and _toks_ until he got to close and fell in.

~~_He stared at the boy who threatened to tip off the black-stone edge, walking briskly to him he pulled him by the shoulder and away from the blazing heat. He stared into his eyes as he stared back. Cold. Lifeless. But he couldn't let go now, of course not. **He was to much fun afterall.**_ ~~

He glanced back towards his arm. He must've been plucking at the strands. Most were gone now.

He closed his eyes and listened in for the familiar chime of the clock. 

_Tik_

_Tok_

_Tik_

...

_Tok_

It must be around 2am. The chime had stopped momentarily always 1,378 _tiks_ after 12am. Smirking, he sat back against the wall and sighed.

The fact he could even remember it all was inhuman. The fact he even managed to remember the time he came into the prison was extraordinary. He rolled his head across his shoulders, untensing the tight muscles within his neck. He was smart, he knows that. The fact he knows he's smart tells more than you would expect. 

He also knew his weaknesses,

which were none!

Chuckling he let the silence overwhelm him again.

A sense of pride welled within him even as he laid upon the hard obsidian floor. Slowly dragging his hands up to his eyes he placed them ontop of them. 

He was smart. He could get out, and even if he couldn't he could just ask for help. It wasn't like he was totally alone. He was going to be fine one way or another.

He had George, ~~Do you?  
  
~~He had Sapnap, ~~Do you?  
  
~~He had Techno, ~~You dont do you?~~

He had--

**oh.**

Whatever, he already has control over everyone. They can't be free forever.

He smiled and dropped his hands, placing them behind his head in the form of a makeshift pillow.

He could get out of this.

He was not alone.

...

_Tik_

_Tok_

_Tik_

_Tok_

_Tik_

_Tok_

The insistent ticking came back. He rose from his rusted arms and sat up, his breath heavy and rugged as he attempted to gain composure over his thoughts.

**_He didnt mean to fall asleep._ **

He quickly glanced over to the clock.

_**Day?** _

_**When had he fallen asleep then? What chime had his brain decided to tune out of?** _

He stared more, as if he was expecting for burning holes to burn into it to show him the time.

His vision blurred.

_**Has Sam come yet? Sam could tell me.** _

He whipped his head to the lava.

..

Nothing.

He looked down towards the floor, finding three potatoes there.

_**How long DID he sleep for?** _

He slowly stood up and stumbled over to the burning wall.

He lightly grazed his fingers ontop of the brownish lump, picking it up and weighting it in his hands.

_**Heavy. Firm. Normal.** _

He slid his gaze over to the other two.

_**Identical.** _

He took a bite out of it.

_**Nothing.** _

Staring at the half eaten lumps on the floor he sank to his knees.

_**He lost all his progress, every tik and tok has been lost. How could he know what day it was now? What time is it? What day is it?** _

_Tik_

_Tok_

_Tik_

_Tok_

He looked towards the devilish object. Cursing his mind full of numbers and imaginary patterns and rhythms. 

_Tik_

_Tok_

_Tik_

_Tok_

He rose to his feet, his arms dangling by his sides as he waltzed over to the source of his pain.

_Tik_

_Tok_

_Tik_

_Tok_

Glaring, memories of laughing at his own failure as he wrote it all down in a book resurfaced. Visits from Tommy and Bad asking about his clock as if it was the only thing that gave him worth. Staring at the wall counting the **fucking** _tiks and toks_ over and over. 

_Tik_

_Tok_

_Tik_

_Tok_

He focused again and rationalised his thoughts.

_What would destroying the clock get him?_

_A moment of time with Sam?_

_A better clock that didnt tik and tok and tik and tok and-_

_A reason to have sanity left?_

_A moment of peace and qui-_

_Tik_

_Tok_

_Tik_

_Tok_

**_Fuck._ **

He grabbed the rugged item off it's hinges, the nail holding it in place immediately flying off towards the floor near his feet. He quickly strided towards the burning wall of lava, stopping before it's edge.

_**He could count the tiks and toks of the droplets at this distance, the way the lava managed to lure him into it as he stared deep within it's burning flames and magma--** _

Throwing the object in, he closed his eyes and went in too.

* * *

Even as he woke up in a puddle of water in the corner of his cell, he let himself take a breathe of relief at the sight of nothing on his wall.

At the sound of silence, he smiled.

....

_But when something becomes a habit you can't just stop can you?_

**_fin_ **


End file.
